You don’t exist.

And you never will. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t sit still,

Or stare, or bless me with your fingers in my hair.

And tell me everything. How you feel about every thing.

It wouldn’t be fair to ignore this craving that I have for you.

But where exactly does it go?

Further into my brain, where you wait, my imagination cradling your body with tight possession?

How come I can’t take it when I think of you and remember how much you aren’t what my thoughts turn you into?

How come I can be at peace, and then at war, almost in the same minute?

When I see you, I recognize the meanings in so many things, that my eyes are a haze of curiosity and joy.

Thank you for luring that out of me,

One day at a time.

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